Farther Down
by jadestears
Summary: A one shot based entirely off of RPG canon. Features Cary Retlin and Dawn Schafer.


**Title:** Farther Down  
**Author:** Jade  
**Rated:** PG  
**Features:** Cary Retlin, Dawn Schafer. Briefly mentions Shawna Riverson and Logan Bruno  
**Timeline:** College  
**Summary:** Written for Sunny. Based partially off of bschigh canon, and partially off of an AU storyline.  
**Disclaimers:** Characters belong first and foremost to Ann M. Martin. Cary's interpretation is my own, Dawn's interpretation belongs to Sunny (Dawn Schafer bschigh.) Reviews are love. Don't steal my story, mmmkay?

* * *

"Jared Mullray."

Cary Retlin glanced over at Dawn Schafer, raising the eyebrow that he was so prone to raising, as she'd spoken the name. She said it with a kind of far-off nostalgia in her clear blue eyes, one that prompted him to ask, "Old boyfriend?"

He and Dawn were walking down Burnt Hill Road, the late afternoon fading easily into a twilight that was more golden than anything else, the sunset bathing the Connecticut street with a warm glow. Despite the sunshine, it was cold out, and Cary shrugged his jacket a little more tightly around his shoulders. Though beautiful, as winter progressed, the conditions only seemed to grow more harsh. Cary had always liked the scenery but had never liked the biting cold that came with it.

He'd met up with Dawn accidentally, after classes at Stoneybrook University had ended for the day. He and Dawn had never quite been friends, not the way Cary was friends with Dawn's stepsister, Mary Anne. Rather, they were the kind of easy acquaintances who were always comfortable in each other's presence. Comfortable enough to go for coffee, to spend the afternoon talking of ... meaningless things. Each trying to avoid the new bond between them, a bond sprung only from pain, and the irony of the fact that Dawn's ex-boyfriend was now with Cary's ex-girlfriend.

But they didn't talk about that. Instead, they talked about the classes they were taking, the majors they'd chosen. Dawn had chosen environmental science, something which amused Cary. She'd always been so passionate about it. Then Dawn had said, "I don't know, though, sometimes I think I should work in the paranormal field." Dawn's revelation that she'd always been intrigued by paranormal activity prompted a discussion of ghosts, a conversation that continued now as he walked her home. Cary was focusing intently on her words ... it was easier than focusing on the idea of going back to his own house, a house where, once again alone, he'd be haunted by his own ghosts, although those ghosts were so different than the childhood ghosts of Dawn's imagination.

At his question, Dawn stopped walking, turning to give him an incredulous stare. "Old boyfriend?" she repeated.

Cary shrugged questioningly. "Who's Jared, then?" he asked, curiosity getting the better of him.

Dawn started to laugh. "He's a _ghost,_ Cary. Over a hundred years old, at that." She grinned. "We weren't above the occasional, late-night rendezvous in the barn, though …"

Cary grinned sheepishly.

"No, seriously?" Dawn began walking again and he fell easily into step beside her. "I've never actually _seen_ him, but when I was younger …" She trailed off, suddenly looking embarrassed.

"What?" Cary prompted.

"We had this secret passage," Dawn said finally. "I found it just after we moved here--I was maybe twelve or so?" She shrugged, indicating age was irrelevant. "Anyway, I read about this legend … in the 1800's, Jared Mullray disappeared from his family's farm. He was never seen from again." This time, it was her turn to grin sheepishly. "Needless to say, I decided that Jared was the ghost that haunted our secret passage."

Cary laughed. It wasn't a mocking laugh; rather, an amused one.

"Our house was there for two hundred years," Dawn protested, her lips tilting in a smirk of her own. "And it used to be a farm. It's _totally_ possible."

Cary just looked at her.

"Fine," Dawn huffed. "Don't believe me, then."

She looked so indignant that Cary had to laugh again, nudging his shoulder almost playfully against hers. It was surprising, how natural the motion felt … Cary didn't tend to be a very physical person. He could see the surprised that flickered across Dawn's face, but it wasn't a displeased surprise. She nudged him back, her touch just as light and playful, and yet something about it …

Cary shook his head, ridding himself of the thought. They'd reached the end of Dawn's property and he opened his mouth to tell her he'd see her later, but Dawn spoke first. "I could show you where it was, if you want," she offered.

"What, the passage?" The question had caught him off guard.

Dawn grinned. "That coffee is going to your head," she said as she headed across the lawn.

"Yeah, well, you know me," Cary answered as he followed her. "Always quick on the uptake."

She snorted a laugh, and then fell quiet as she gazed around at the grass, as if trying to see through it. She glanced towards the edge of the renovated barn once or twice, sizing it up.

"Dawn," Cary finally asked, "what are you doing?"

"Shh." She put a finger to her lips, her blue-eyed gaze scanning the property once again. Cary fell into an amused silence, yet as he watched her, he couldn't help but admire the somewhat excited flush that slightly colored her cheeks. It made her eyes seem brighter, eyes that, like his, had carried too many shadows lately. He could still see the emotions swirling there, just under the surface, but they were hidden now, overpowered by amusement and nostalgia for nothing more than a child's dream. It lit up her face … made her seem more alive than he could ever hope to feel.

"Here," she said abruptly, moving a few steps over as she gestured towards the grass. "This is where the entrance was." She sat down right on the cold grass, drawing her legs into an Indian-style position and, despite himself, Cary took a seat next to her. "My bedroom was here," she went on, pulling at a few blades of frozen grass. There were small patches of early winter snow that dotted the lawn but for the most part it was still semi-green. "There was an entrance against one wall … the other entrance was in the barn."

At that, they both turned to look at the house that sat there now, the renovated barn unrecognizable _as_ a barn, in the traditional sense. Cary knew that the original house had burned down in eighth grade. Mary Anne had mentioned it a few times, but Cary had never much thought about it, despite expressing his sympathy. Now, though, watching Dawn's face, he realized that there were memories tied to that house, at least for Dawn. He'd never known of the passage that she talked about, or what it obviously meant to her. Part of her childhood was buried here, underneath the grass that they were sitting on.

Life never stopped … taking things, he realized, dropping his gaze. Houses, people, cities … life would give you something for a very brief while, and if you were lucky you got to keep it, but more often than not, destiny would intervene, would snatch everything valuable away.

"You all right?" Dawn was looking at him, and Cary glanced up, realizing that he'd been silent for quite awhile as he'd absently plucked out a blade of grass, playing with it.

He tried to decide how to answer, but before he could, Dawn once again beat him to it. "You're thinking of Shawna, aren't you?" she guessed, her own expression flashing with pain for a moment. She'd lost just as much as he had. Maybe even more, because Shawna had been her friend, too. Cary once could have called Logan an acquaintance, but Dawn's friendship with Shawna had been deeper than that. _She was like that,_ Cary reflected, somewhat bitterly. Cary could take friends, or leave them, and it really didn't bother him one way or the other. But Shawna … she was always social. Always had to be surrounded by a group of people, always … figured out a way to make herself a part of your life. _Or your heart,_ he thought, shaking his head as he looked back up at Dawn.

She saved him from having to answer by instead talking about her own feelings. "I know how you feel," she commented, mouth tugging down into a frown as she picked up her own blade of grass. "I miss Logan, too." She took a deep breath, let it out. "Is that wrong? To miss him, even though he …"

_Ripped your heart out?_ Cary suggested silently. What he said, though, was, "I don't think it's wrong. It's …"

"Natural," Dawn finished with a sigh. "That's what Mary Anne says."

"Maybe she's right." Cary shrugged. "I don't know."

"Yeah …" Dawn fell silent, picking at another blade of grass, twisting it so hard that Cary could see the pale green smudges come off on her fingers. He automatically reached over, covering her hand with his, gently easing her fingers away from the blade of grass. He didn't know why he'd done it; as soon as her hand was in his, Cary blinked in confusion, as if he were unsure how it happened.

Dawn also blinked, but she didn't pull away, either. Instead, her fingers grasped his; slender, but surprisingly strong. Their eyes met, briefly, and then Dawn let out her breath, looking away. It was the first time either of them had directly addressed what had hung in the air between them ever since … since it had all happened in the first place.

"It's … strange, you know," Dawn went on after a moment, although she wasn't looking at him anymore. Her voice was somewhat scratchy, although Cary couldn't tell if it was from unshed tears, or if it was just a stronger version of the perpetual rasp she'd always had. "I moved back here because … I wanted to be close to my family," she went on. "To Mary Anne, mostly. But it's like we just kept getting pushed apart."

She turned her gaze to him, then, and he could see the tears that gathered in her eyes. But they were unshed, only made her wide blue eyes seem brighter. As if she were looking right through him. "Because of Logan," she went on. "I … resented her based on my own feelings. And then she resented _me_ …" She laughed then, a small, quiet laugh, tinged with the bitterness that Cary himself felt. "That's the worst part of all this. I feel like I lost my sister over a guy who didn't stick around, anyway."

"Despite what happened," Cary said quietly, "she's always going to be your sister."

Dawn shrugged, blinking a bit to rid herself of the tears that had never fallen. Cary had to admit that he was surprised, at that … he'd almost been preparing himself for the inevitable breakdown that usually came after that first glistening of tears. Shawna had done it. Mary Anne had done it. But Dawn … maybe she was stronger than he'd given her credit for because when she looked at him a moment later, it was as it the tears had never been there at all.

"You doing anything tonight?" Dawn finally asked. She pulled her hand away from his, using both hands to pull her jacket more tightly around her before pushing herself off of the ground. The sunset had faded as they'd sat there and twilight enveloped them, carrying a chilly breeze. It was the kind of breeze that seemed to feed off of emotions, taking the harshest ones and battering them in deeply, chilling to the bone.

"Nope," Cary answered as he got to his feet.

"Okay. Let's go, then." Dawn gave him a grin. "Mom's making tofu for dinner."

"Sounds great," Cary said dryly, his mouth tilting slightly in a quick smirk.

"Yeah, pretty much." She reached for his hand again, and this time when he grasped it, no surprise came. Instead, it felt only natural. Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe the fading of tension … maybe it was just that neither of them wanted to be alone.

Falling into step, they walked across the lawn towards the Schafer-Spiers, hands bound together, bodies huddled close as if to keep each other warm … both from the chill of the weather, and from the ghosts of their intertwined pasts.


End file.
